


When I Get Low I Get High

by ObliqueOptimism, TotallynotRemus



Series: Baby (You've Got What It Takes) [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anxiety Attacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Panic Attacks, Parent Klaus Hargreeves, Relapse, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:40:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21895771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliqueOptimism/pseuds/ObliqueOptimism, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotallynotRemus/pseuds/TotallynotRemus
Summary: Written on their fridge, with permanent marker to make sure it sticks, are the house rules of their little family. One of them, perhaps one of the most important ones, is:'It's okay to make messes, they can be cleaned up.'Relapses happen, and Klaus makes a mistake. He didn't mean to screw things up.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Baby (You've Got What It Takes) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576855
Comments: 98
Kudos: 355





	1. He Needs To Pack A Bag And Leave, Obviously

**Author's Note:**

> a second jackson fic in a day? yes it seems so. still haven't finished the first tho. oopsie. remus is co creator because i came to them with "what if he relapsed" and then they just came up with this beautiful plot that i then wrote.

It was stupid. _He_ was stupid. He fucked up.

He had gone out with his coworkers after work. It was Jane’s birthday so they were celebrating. He was going to hang out with them some, eat some apps, go home to Jackson and Dave. 

_That had been the plan._

But he fucked up.

He’d had soda. But then Bea bought everyone a shot and at first he was going to decline his, but they joked with him and he was with friends and they were having fun and he was safe and he had a reason to stay sober and he could handle _one little shot_.

But somehow that shot became a drink, then a second, and then five and--

Then more.

He was so _stupid._ He was supposed to be sober now. He had a son, a boyfriend. A life. And he had just thrown it all away because of _a shot._. There was no reason for it, he could have turned it down, he could have explained to them that he had been an addict and alcoholic for over a decade of his life but no, he thought he could manage. _As if he could manage._

He could manage to go home (that hurts to think about, he fucked up, he shouldn’t have a home anymore) and pack a bag. Go stay with Ben (if he’d have him).

He should have known he’d fuck it up. It was only a matter of time. Four and a half years, almost five. That’s all the happiness someone like him would be allowed. It was more than he could have ever asked for. More than he deserved.

It was always meant to go south, he knew that now. He’d been fooling himself in thinking he could keep himself together. He should have known, Reggie had known. Reggie had been right all along. 

He was a failure.

A disappointment.

He was standing outside the door leading to his apartment.

It was late, time had gotten away with him. Alcohol had gotten away with him. He fumbled with his key. It took him far longer to get his key in the lock than it should have. _Fuck_.

He tried to silently open the door.

It was mostly dark.

He swallowed, afraid. He was so terrified of the dark. The light above the stove was on, casting dim light a short distance into the very empty apartment. Of course it was empty. It was late. His baby had gone to bed without him. _He hadn’t told his baby he loved him one last time._ Putting his hand over his mouth he tried to stifle his sob. 

“Klaus?” The doorway to the bedroom opened, more light pouring into the room.

Klaus stumbled a bit before letting himself crumble to the floor, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” God he’d woken Dave. He’d worried Dave. Jackson was asleep. He had to be quiet. He had to leave. Jackson wasn’t safe with him anymore. 

Jackson wasn’t _safe_ with _him_ anymore.

Dave wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. Klaus let himself cry into Dave’s chest for a few minutes. He was going to lose _everything_. He repeated how sorry he was. How he fucked up. Dave had to smell the alcohol on him. Dave would be _disappointed_ in him.

He was always his daddy’s greatest disappointment.

“I can’t let Jackson see me like this,” Klaus said, ignoring Dave who was trying to calm him down. “I’m so fucking stupid, I realy screwed up. Dave, Dave, Dave,” Klaus pulled at his shirt, “you’re so great with him, my son. You’ll watch him? Keep him safe. Ben and Diego will help. I need to-- Dave I need to leave. Jackson can’t know how much of a fucking fuck up failure I am, okay? I’ll pack a bag and leave and you tell him-- Dave you tell him that _I love him_ but I can’t. Tell him, I don’t know, I joined a circus. Or-- Or-- Or tell him I’m looking to find a dinosaur for him. Then! Yes, then the reason why I never came back is that I couldn’t find one. _Obviously._ ”

“Shh, sunshine, you’re okay,” Dave murmured, starting to rock them. “You’re okay. You relapsed, but you’re okay. Remember the rules? _Its okay to make messes. They can be cleaned up._ ”

Klaus clutched at Dave, wishing Dave was right. That he was okay, “I didn’t mean to fail you. To fail Jackson. Why am I such a fuck up? I can’t, Dave. I can’t--” 

“You _can,_ sunshine. We will get through this. We’ll get you to bed and tomorrow morning we can start new. A new day, Klaus. That’s what tomorrow is. You didn’t fail either of us--”

“How can you say that? Look at me! I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve Jackson. I belong in the dumpsters still. I shouldn’t have thought I could pull my way out of them, _fuck_ I can’t, I can’t, I’m such a shithead and he can’t see me like this, _ruin his daddy forever_. I can’t have that Dave, please, please, please--”

”Daddy?”

Klaus froze, letting out a loud sob. Dave was rubbing his back, making soothing noises. Why wasn’t he telling Jackson that everything was fine, go back to bed? Why was he still holding onto Klaus when Jackson was there? Jackson would need Dave now. Dave understood Jackson so well. He never questioned so many of his son’s quirks, just rolled with them. He would be a better daddy than Klaus ever could be. He wouldn’t have relapsed _with his fucking coworkers at a birthday party._

A small hand touched his cheek, wiping away tears, “Daddy?”

No, no, no, no, not his baby, _not his life_. Don’t let him see him like this, please god. Don’t let him see him like this.

Klaus had his eyes closed, so he wouldn’t have to see the hurt on Jackson’s face when he realized how poorly he rolled in the father lotto. He was whispering, praying, for anything but this. Don’t let his lovebug see this.

But then a hand lifted his chin off Dave’s chest, “Daddy? Please?” Jackson’s voice _wobbled_.

Oh god.

He caused that.

He caused his baby pain.

“Baby? No, don’t cry,” he opened eyes and saw Jackson in front of him. His bottom lip was quivering.

“Daddy are you okay?” Jackson asked, obviously trying to keep a brave face on for his shitty father.

“Your daddy made a mess of things,” Dave soothed, “And what’s the rule?”

“Oh! It’s okay to make messes! They can be cleaned up!” Jackson’s tone was a bit happier. “Right daddy? We can clean up the mess.”

Klaus cried harder. Jackson leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Klaus’s neck, tucking himself in Klaus’s arms. “I love you daddy and whatever mess you made I forgive you.”

Klaus hugged Jackson tight, tucking his face in his hair, breathing in the scent of his son’s shampoo. He wasn’t aware of what he was forgiving. One day he’d know and he would be mad at him. He’d hate him, and he had ever right to. But right now he loved Klaus.

He knew he didn’t deserve it.

But he’d always been selfish.

Dave’s arms tightened around him. Keeping him safe, keeping him close. “Tomorrow is a new day, sunshine. Just you wait and see how much better it is than right now. Tonight is more like a nightmare, huh? Waking in the morning will help, I promise.”

“I can sleep with you tonight?” Jackson suggested. “When I have nightmares you sleep with me. I can help! No more nightmares for daddy!” 

“I don’t deserve--”

“Shh, sunshine,” Dave said, kissing the shell of his ear. “You do. You deserve _so much._ ”

After a few more minutes on the floor, Dave helped Klaus stand back up and get in his pajamas. Jackson watched with worried eyes as Klaus stumbled around the apartment. If he was older he’d know-- next time, next time they wouldn’t forgive him.

God please, let there not be a next time.

For once, Klaus was in the middle of the bed. Dave once again, wrapped his arms around Klaus, and Jackson snuggled up to his chest. Klaus fell asleep with Dave murmuring nice things softly in his ear while Jackson traced Klaus’s face with his fingers. 

Then tomorrow came.

A new day.


	2. He Hoped He Was Doing The Right Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who couldn't get the idea of klaus relapsing out of their head! that's right y'all! it's me! have a little peek into the future of this little family. jackson's eight and we've got dave's pov! 
> 
> yeehaw!

The first sign that something bad had happened was that it was dark when he walked into their apartment. They always had some sort of light in each room for Klaus. Usually the kitchen had the light above the stove on, not much light, but enough light to keep him from panicking.

But it was off.

Dave turned the overhead light on. 

Klaus was sitting on a chair, head in hands, bag by his feet. He was crying.

Dave quickly got to his side, “Sunshine why--”

Klaus was slurring his speech, muttering to himself, _“--fucking trash, fuckin’ the worst, gonna go, keep him safe--”_

He hadn’t seemed to register that the lights were now on. He’d only seen his husband like this once, when he’d relapsed. It had been four years since then. For weeks he had beat himself up for relapsing, usually only after Jackson was asleep so he wouldn’t see. He’d known about Klaus’s past before then, but it was during those times when he really saw how little Klaus thought of himself. How much he hated himself. 

It hurt, knowing how much his sunshine hated himself. 

But Klaus got better, Dave reassuring him over and over that he wasn’t as bad as he said. Told him not to talk like that about his boyfriend. His cravings had become stronger than usual, but Dave helped him through it. 

He’d help him through it again.

Last time he’d had it in his head that he needed to leave, Dave glanced at the packed bag; seemed like he thought the same this time. He idly wondered what he’d packed in the state he was in. 

Dave got on his knees, so he’d be the same size as Klaus sitting down. He gently put a hand on Klaus’s shoulder.

Klaus’s head snapped up. His eyes red and puffy, he seemed drunk again. Which was reassuring in that it was easier to get ahold of alcohol than drugs. Dave tried to think of what possibly set Klaus down this path, but he’d find out later. Right now he had to calm his husband down.

“I did it again, sorry. Sorry you married me. Um, uh, he’s-- he’s asleep. I’ll go now, okay?” Klaus hiccuped, “You got ‘em: my baby.”

Dave moved the bag to the side before giving Klaus a hug, “Let’s you to bed.”

“But--” Klaus started to argue.

“You’re safe. You’re loved. You’re forgiven. Come on, sunshine. Let’s get your shoes off and go to bed.” Dave looked down and saw Klaus was missing a shoe already.

“Dave, I--” Klaus said, tears in his eyes.

Dave took his shoe off, “Why were you sitting in the dark, hm? Sunshine doesn’t belong in the dark.”

“If he opened the door,” Klaus gestured clumsily to Jackson’s door, “can’t let him see me like this. Make it dark. _Deserve the dark._ ” His voice was full of self-loathing.

Dave’s heart ached for him. His sunshine was terrified of the dark and of enclosed small spaces. It had taken a while, but Dave found out that _his father_ would lock him in an unfinished cement room in the basement for hours as punishment. _Reginald_ should be glad he’d already died by the time Dave had learned that. 

It spoke to how much Klaus trusted Dave when he let himself be taken to the bedroom. He didn’t protest as much as last time he’d relapsed. He was still very upset with himself, and he’d beat himself up for a while yet, but he wasn’t arguing as much as last time. 

He knew he was loved. He knew he was safe. He knew he was forgiven.

Klaus fell asleep, crying and apologizing softly in Dave’s arms. 

The next morning Dave got Klaus a cup of tea and some crackers. They’d spoken some when they woke, Dave reassured Klaus again, told him to rest. Klaus was clearly hung over and feeling like shit and _feeling like shit_. 

Jackson had been up already, watching cartoons in his cowboy pajamas. He’d eyed Dave when he’d gotten tea and crackers, and when Dave left the bedroom again he watched him with intelligent eyes. 

“Is daddy okay?” he’d turned away from the tv to ask.

Dave knew he must be worried, his favorite show was playing. Dave sighed, “He’s not feeling well today, starshine. So he’s probably going to spend most of today in bed.”

Jacky narrowed his eyes, “He didn’t seem like he was getting sick yesterday. Is he having a sad day?”

No, yesterday Klaus seemed fine. Thinking back, Dave wondered if there were signs he should have noticed. He’d failed his husband. They’d have to talk about what happened and why, but he’d wait until Klaus felt better. 

Jacky was waiting for an answer.

Making a decision he might regret, Dave sat down on the floor next to Jacky and muted the tv. This was going to be a lot for an eight year old, but he deserved to know. 

They’d never lied outright or hid Klaus’s past from Jackson. 

He just hoped Klaus would be okay with Dave explaining this to their son.

Jacky pulled his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around legs, head resting on top. His father’s big pretty eyes looking worried. “Dad what's going on? Is Daddy okay?”

Dave ran a hand over his face, this was a lot to put on a kid’s shoulders, but he would have to know, “Klaus is going to be okay.” He moved so he was sitting right up against Jacky, wrapping an arm around him. “You know about your daddy’s life before you?”

“Of course. He says I saved his life,” Jacky nodded. “He did drugs and drank,” his nose scrunched up in distaste.

“Well last night he relapsed. Got drunk, I don’t think--” Dave sighed, “I think it was only alcohol.”

_”Oh.”_

They didn’t keep any alcohol in the house, Dave never minded not drinking, they didn’t even keep cold medicine. Klaus had made it clear to Dave he never wanted to go down that road again, it was best to keep all forms of temptation away. He had explained to Dave that before Jackson, he had thrown _everything_ away for the next high. He couldn’t trust himself to stay strong, to stay sober. He knew he couldn’t, the cravings always there but flaring up worse sometimes. But he needed to be there for Jackson, the most important person in his life. And for Dave, the man he loved. 

“He’s going to be okay. We need to let him know we forgive him, and we still love him even though he’d made a mistake,” Dave explained.

Jacky nodded, then quoted one of the rules written on the fridge, in Dave’s handwriting, “Mistakes are always forgiven.”

“Right,” Dave agreed. “This is-- Four years ago he had relapsed. While it took awhile for it to happen again, it isn’t _out of the question_ that he could relapse a third time. It’s not that I don’t think he isn’t strong enough, or that he can’t do it, _he can, he is._ But, I want you to be aware of the _possibility_.”

His starshine nodded, “Daddy’s the strongest person I know.” He looked like he was fighting back tears, “I love him so much.”

“We both love you so much. You are his favorite person in the world,” Dave said. He rubbed his thumb back on forth on Jacky’s arm, “I want you to be able to tell if Klaus relapsed and to know what steps to take if you find him like that, okay starshine?”

He went over signs of someone being drunk or high, how they may act. Then he went over how Klaus tended to act, the two times he’d relapsed. How he’d wanted to run and hide, how he spoke about himself. 

“Like daddy’s sad days?” 

“Similar, a bit worse than those days,” Dave said. “I don’t want you to think he’d done this when he was having a sad day, so be sure to look for the other signs. But if you find him like this, call me or a family member. Even if you aren’t sure and he might just be having a sad day, call someone if no one else is around. We’ll come and check and keep both of you safe, okay?”

Jacky swallowed, “Is there-- Is there anything I do today? To help?”

Dave knew Jacky would be able to get Klaus to smile and feel better. He’d never minded that Klaus loved his son more than him. It was as it should be. Dave should come second to Jackson. But Klaus wouldn’t want their son to see him hung over. 

“I think, right now? If you crawled in bed with him and just _was there_ with him, so he knows you’ll be there for him?” Dave suggested slowly. “No real need to talk to him, but if it feels natural you can talk to him. He might cry or want to hold you, need to be held. You and your daddy have a connection and love I’ve never seen before, so I trust you to know what to do in the moment.”

Jacky wiped at his eyes, “Okay dad. Thank you for telling me. I’m going to go to daddy now, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll busy myself out here. I will check in on you two later, but if you need me before then I’ll be right out here.” He kissed his son on the forehead. 

As Jacky got up and went to Klaus, Dave hoped he did right. _It was a lot of weight to put on an eight year old._ But he hadn’t lied, he’d never seen a parent and child have a relationship like the two of them. He was blessed to be part of their family and he wanted to do right by them both. 

And this seemed like the right thing.


	3. Time To Ace This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Chrysler y’all.
> 
> Jackson is 12! Growing up so fast!

Jackson was feeling pretty good. School had been fine, he’d found out he managed to get an A on a test he’d been worried about. Just because his parents had said he’d ace it didn’t mean he would. He trusted them about a lot but they didn’t know his teacher like Jackson did. 

Not that his teacher was mean _to him_ specifically. She just taught a class he tended to have trouble with and was strict with her grading. No matter how much uncle Five tutored him, _math was hard._

Grinning to himself, Jackson let himself into their apartment. Daddy should be home by now and dad was gone for a few days, visiting his family. His cousin was getting married? His cousin was having a birthday? His cousin had passed away? Something like that. 

Jackson went straight to the fridge, not only to grab a glass of juice, but to put his test on it, right above the rules. He rolled his eyes at them, so silly of his daddy for starting that. He was glad for them and it was very much like his daddy to just write the rules on the fridge. 

_”Oh,”_ Jackson turned, his daddy was giggling, _”oh no.”_

“Daddy?” alarm bells were going off in Jackson’s head. His daddy seemed _off_. His giggle was not one he’d heard before.

“You’re home already? God it’s that time, huh? _I’ll be god damn go to hell_.” He looked pained.

His daddy had relapsed. And his dad was away. _Oh, oh no_ , was right. Jackson swallowed, trying to remember what his dad told him to do in situations like this. He needed to call someone. Dad wouldn’t be able to make it back in a reasonable time. So first up was uncle Ben. 

He kept an eye on his daddy who seemed to become sad when he realized Jackson was home as he called his uncle Ben. He started muttering about how bad he was. Jackson took his daddy’s hand and started rubbing his thumb back and forth on his daddy’s hand. 

“Jackson?” uncle Ben asked, sounding unsure.

“I think daddy relapsed,” Jackson said, taking note of his daddy’s sad _coo_ he’d made.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” uncle Ben said quickly before hanging up.

“You told,” daddy sang out. “Oopsie, daddy.”

Jackson wasn’t sure how long uncle Ben would be so he guided his daddy to the sofa. His daddy’s pupils were weirder than usual. His daddy had taken drugs. Jackson was only twelve. He’d been preparing for this for four years. Not that he wanted his daddy to relapse, but he knew how long he’d been on drugs, he’d been told, he’d read his aunt Vanya’s book.

“Hey, lovebug, um--” daddy started, acting nervous, “I um, listen, I have more pills but like, I um. _Seeing you_ shit I’m a fuck up, we know this? We know this. Uh, will you. I should flush them. Will you watch me? Get rid of them?”

His daddy looked so unsure of himself. It broke Jackson’s heart, watching his daddy scratch his arms and look off to the side, as if he saw something. “Of course daddy.”

Daddy put a hand on each of Jackson’s shoulders, “Listen, baby. I didn't plan this. Daddy’s a fucking shithead, yes? There was a _homeless addict_ who came into the library today. Just like I used to? Before you. Before I worked there. My skin crawled, baby. I _wanted_ so much. Y’know? So I was good! I walked to go clear my head! _It wasn’t my fault, baby._ But I ran into an old friend and suddenly my old friend’s pills were in my hands! Have you-- have you tried pills? I have some! No, shut up, you fucker, Jackson doesn’t take pills!”

Jackson grabbed his daddy’s hand as he went to hit himself. “We’re getting rid of them daddy, remember?”

Daddy took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes, yes. That. We’re doing that. And you’ll come with me? Baby, I don’t have the strength to do it on my own. But if you’re with me, reminding me of I need to stay clean. Sorry, I’m not clean, lovebug. You deserve a daddy who is clean. A daddy who isn’t me--”

“I’m lucky enough to have gotten you as my daddy,” Jackson said gently. “I couldn’t have asked for a better one. Nor would I want to.” His daddy fidgeted, looking down and away. Jackson knew his daddy didn’t like himself, didn’t see himself as the amazing person he was. He’d taught Jackson how to love himself, to be kind to himself, but his daddy had never done the same for himself. “Are um, do you have the pills on you?”

Daddy nodded, “Yeah.” He looked like he was ready to cry.

“Let’s go get rid of them, right daddy?” Standing up, he took his daddy’s hands and pulled him so they were both up. Daddy leaned on him, arms wrapped around each other. 

Jackson led them to the bathroom. Daddy kept glancing at the toilet and then to Jackson. He bit his bottom lip, “I don’t-- what if we just hid the pills? You could hide them! And then um, I won’t know where they are?”

Jackson shook his head, trying to stay strong for his daddy. He had done research over the years, he’d heard stories, he knew this was hard for daddy. But he also knew daddy didn’t like himself when he was high. He knew daddy loved him, and that he was having a low moment. “You were going to flush them, and I came with to remind you why. You can do this daddy! I love you.”

 _”You do?”_ daddy asked. “Even after-- _this?_ ” he gestured to himself.

“Of course. I will always love you daddy,” Jackson said, giving him a hug. “Nothing you have done or will do can change that.” 

Daddy started crying, hugging him back, “I don’t deserve you. You’re too perfect for me.”

“No, I am perfect for you.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” daddy pulled back, rubbing at his nose. “I can do this.” Taking a breath, he produced a small bag that had three pills in it.

Jackson hadn’t known what they would look like. He knew his daddy liked pills, and he knew they could come in various shapes and colors, but for some reason he thought they would look scarier. These looked a lot like the antibiotics he’d had to take last time he was sick. Dad had been in charge of making sure Jackson got his medicine. He always was. Daddy would leave the room whenever Jackson took it too. 

Now he fully understood why.

Daddy let out a gasp as he turned the small bag upside down and the pills fell into the toilet. He then reached out with a shaking hand and flushed it.

“I’m proud of you daddy.”

They went back into the living room. Daddy sat down and put his head in his hands and muttered to himself. Jackson sat beside him and rubbed at his back. He couldn’t make out what he was saying to himself, but the tone seemed harsh. His daddy needed comfort and support, not whatever he was telling himself. 

Jackson got up and went to his room for a moment. Grabbing Tree from the top of his bed, he came back out to see daddy watching him with large eyes. When he got closer, he handed Tree to daddy, “I think you should hold onto Tree.”

Daddy gently took the stuffed triceratops and pulled him close to his chest. “Thanks, baby.”

Overall, Jackson had thought he was too old for stuffed animals, but it was nice to hold onto when sleeping. He was glad he hadn’t gotten rid of all of his stuffed toys. Daddy seemed amazed at how soft Tree still was. 

Then there was a knock at the door before it opened. Uncle Ben always knocked twice before using his key and entering the apartment. He gave Jackson a reassuring smile. 

Uncle Ben took over watching daddy for a bit, so Jackson thought he should call his dad now. Tell him what happened. 

“Jacky? Is everything okay?” Dad asked, voice pitched low.

“Hi dad. Um. It’s under control, so don’t worry. But daddy relapsed today on some sort of pill. Uncle Ben is here with us, so we’re both safe. But I thought you should know.” Jackson turned to see daddy showing uncle Ben Tree, both of them petting the soft fabric. 

Dad let out a shaky breath, “Okay starshine. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’m still four hours away so you both stay with Ben until I get back. Thank you for calling me. You did good. _You did good._ We can talk more about all of this when I get back.”

“Okay, we’ll see you soon, dad. I love you.”

“Love you too,” dad said before hanging up.

Jackson knew that his daddy would get past this, he’d fought with his addictions and sometimes they got the better of him. But it was hard to ace every test, and Jackson knew that his daddy would do better next time. He’d get that A.


	4. He’s Got This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's the end, i hope you all like it. i'm pretty happy with it. i'm so proud of this little family.
> 
> jackson is 16. and we're back to klaus pov.

It was a quiet night in. The tv had some show playing quietly in the background, Jackson was playing a game or texting on his phone, Dave was reading a book, Klaus was knitting. 

Trying to knit.

He wasn’t doing great at it.

Knitting was repetitive enough that he’d gotten sucked into his thoughts, which was rarely a good thing. It had been four years since his last relapse and he was honestly expecting to have another one. He’d relapsed three times, four years between each. It was a pattern, so any day now he’d relapse. _He knew it._ His family was probably thinking the same thing, just waiting for him to fuck up. Because he would, _obviously._ It was just a matter of time.

Maybe he could force it? Go out and just fall off the wagon on purpose this time. _Get it over with._ Stop worrying about it and go make it happen. 

His knitting needles were shaking. Swallowing, he set them aside and cleared his throat, his family glancing at him, “I need an intervention.”

Dave put his book down, “Sunshine?”

“I was just planning on sneaking out tonight and get blasted,” Klaus glanced at Dave with fear. 

The tv got turned off.

Suddenly his family was sitting beside him on the sofa. The room felt tense. Klaus bent forward and rested his face in his hands. God he was an idiot. He wasn’t sure if he was an idiot for wanting to break his sobriety again or or announcing it. “It’s been four years,” he mumbled, “it’s always been four years. _It’s a pattern_ and I thought I should just get it over with, stop making all of us worry about _when_ and just get it over with, y’know? Because it’ll happen again and we can all relax once I fuck up again.”

“You did right by telling us,” Dave said, wrapping an arm around him. “You’re so brave.”

Klaus scoffed, leaning back into his husband’s arms, “How is it brave? I am so afraid of what I might do. What if I can’t control it, what if I sneak out anyway and go searching, huh?”

“Then we pick you back up again, like we always have,” Dave soothed.

Klaus then realized Jackson hadn’t said anything yet. He probably was hating that his daddy was so weak. He should have waited to say something when it was just him and Dave, or not say anything and just-- just-- relapse or-- or-- _fucking_ not be a failure. No, he had to open his big stupid mouth and make Jackson hate him. 

God, he was this much of a mess with Jackson there beside him. His _reason_ for becoming sober. His baby was sixteen. In two years he’d be moving out, going to university. If he fucked up this much with Jackson in his life, how would he be able to hold it together once he left? He wouldn’t be strong enough without Jackson. 

Fuck, he wasn’t strong enough _with_ Jackson.

And now he’d lost him earlier than the two years he thought he still had, because he said he needed help. He’d fuck up and go on a week long bender and then Dave would leave him too. He’d be all alone, as he should be. And then what would he have left? Nothing that mattered, because _he_ didn’t matter and--

“Daddy, please. You need to breathe,” Jackson said, his hand was touching Klaus’s chest. “In and out, you’ve got this, daddy.”

Jackson was in front of him. When did--? He couldn’t breathe-- He wasn’t, how could he--

Jackson grabbed one of Klaus’s hands and put it on his chest, “Breath in with me and dad, okay? Dad’s behind you, you’re leaning against his chest. You’ve got this. _I believe in you, daddy._ ”

His baby believed in him? Didn’t hate him for wanting to relapse? 

Klaus took a shuttery breath. _He could do this._

Jackson smiled at him, his eyes still worried, “There you go, just keep breathing. We’ll help you get through this. We’ve got you.”

He took another breath. 

Dave was behind him, arms wrapped around, keeping him safe. Like he always did. He’d never hurt him, not in all the years they’d been together. Strong arms, held him up. Gentle hands, making him feel cared for. As much as he didn’t like Bradley’s dad, he did have to give it to the guy: without him he and Dave wouldn’t have met. God, he didn’t want Victor to realize that, he’d never shut up about it. 

Jackson was in front, always ahead of Klaus. Klaus spent the last sixteen years watching his baby, never turning his back to him. Jackson’s hand rested on Klaus’s chest, his other hand was holding Klaus’s hand to his chest. He was there. He wasn’t disgusted. He wouldn’t lose his son too soon. Their heartbeats were connected by their touch.

Jackson’s eyes warmed, “I knew you could do it, daddy.”

Klaus realized his breathing was back to normal. 

“We’ve got you,” Dave whispered in his ear. “We’ll catch you, sunshine.”

“Can I get a hug?” Jackson asked.

Klaus answered by almost jumping out of Dave’s grasp to wrap his arms around his son. Jackson’s grip was tight, helping keep Klaus from floating away. Jackson was still here. He had two years before he’d be leaving for university. His baby was so smart, he’d probably get in some university across the country, only coming home on holidays.

Klaus wouldn’t be strong enough.

“Hey,” Jackson said, tightening his grasp, “whatever you’re thinking of, it’s not going to happen, okay? Daddy, please, remember to breathe--”

“I can’t do it without you,” Klaus was surprised at how rough his voice sounded. “I fuck up this much with you beside me, when you leave--”

“I’m still here, daddy. Not going anywhere,” Jackson rubbed at his back.

Klaus shouldn’t explain, _he couldn't_. Jackson would get guilty about going away for university, thinking he couldn't leave. Klaus couldn’t hold his son back like that. “One day you’ll have a chance to leave and you better-- you better not look back. Okay lovebug? You keep going without me and--”

“Daddy, shh. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but I’m not leaving you,” Jackson said. “I love you and dad too much to leave you guys.”

Klaus was crying, he knew he was. Fuck, he’d cried too many times in front of Jackson. He shouldn’t have to rely on his son to help hold him up. He should be able to stand on his own, but he was weak, stupid, fucking--

“Daddy, stop saying those things about yourself,” Jackson said. Klaus hadn’t realized he’d been thinking out loud. “You’re so strong, you just asked for help! I’m so happy that you did. Thank you for saying something to us tonight. You weren’t stupid for it, it was very smart. You always made it clear that I could come to you whenever I need _any_ help. You can come to us too. Dad and I are here for you.”

“You aren’t alone, sunshine,” Dave said, putting his warm hand on the nape of Klaus’s neck. It was a comforting gesture, keeping him in the here and now. “We both love you very much and are here for you. We are _always_ here for you.”

Maybe Klaus could ask Jackson to go to a closer university. Maybe he wouldn’t want to go across the country for school, wanting to be away from his family to be free of them. Maybe he wouldn’t lose his son like he thought. 

Maybe he could lean on Dave more, he did have strong arms. Maybe Dave would always be ready to catch him. Maybe his husband wouldn’t even think about leaving him if he went on a week long bender. 

Maybe he wouldn’t go on a week long bender.

It could be that Jackson would go to the university in town, he’d visit all the time because they had food and laundry and he’d see his son so much it would be like he hadn’t left. It could be that Dave wouldn’t have to catch him when he fell because he’d helped hold him up. It could be that he wouldn’t relapse for another decade or more. 

He’d taken the right step tonight, to see the outcome he wanted. He’d told his family he needed help and they were there for him. They’d wrapped him up and kept him safe. Somehow over the years he hadn’t lost their love, their support. 

“Thank you,” Klaus whispered, voice wavering. “Thank you both for this.”

“Thank you for reaching out, daddy,” Jackson said, finally leaning back from his grasp. He didn’t fully pull away though. 

“We’ll help you through this,” Dave said, his voice laden with love.

Klaus let out a breath. 

They would help him tonight, tomorrow, next week. He’d be able to stay sober for longer than he’d ever dreamed with his family there beside him. 

He’s got this.

**Author's Note:**

> obliqueoptimism @ tumblr


End file.
